The Bomb
by Tanya Takaishi
Summary: Having an older sister made Daisuke immune to certain things other guys might freak out over, but then again he'd never really imagined those certain things on a certain girl until her brother brought them to his attention.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I want to thank Pied Piper for giving me this idea when I was stuck in a writing rut and needed something to get me going. This first part of this short story was written then and the second in my most recent writing block. For those of you waiting for Sunlight, the next chapter is almost done and believe it or not, this gem helped it get there. So thanks again Piper! ;) Next part will be released next week.

* * *

 **The Bomb**

* * *

It all started with a bra.

By which Daisuke was 100% completely unfazed. Lavender lace and B cups could probably propel marbles at breakneck speeds as well as the red satin C's he often experimented with at home ever since he learned about centrifugal force. The elasticity of girl's undergarments could launch objects nearly as well as the slingshot his mother confiscated after one too many marbles found their target at the owner of said bra's rear.

So when Takeru turned pink and refused to sit after Chizuru Inoue went to fetch her sister, it took a few minutes for Daisuke to realize what the issue was.

"What'sa matter, Takaishi?" Daisuke flopped backward into the Inoue's couch and reached backwards with a toothy grin. "This?" His fingers latched onto lace and he held up the lavender bra that had been strung with its numerous companions on the back of the couch. The strap twirled around his finger and snapped out like a nunchaku.

Takeru flinched. "Don't touch it," he hissed, backing away as if it were a bomb, set to go off by mere acknowledgment. His eyes darted around the Inoue apartment and back to the bra covered couch like two blue bouncing balls.

Daisuke snapped the bra again and it flew directly into Takeru's flailing hands just as Miyako's brother walked into the room, sipping a cola. Takeru turned a livid shade of red grape and untangled his fingers from the lacy web, apologizing and excusing himself from the apartment so quickly that Mantarou didn't have a chance to react before the door slammed in his face.

While Daisuke snorted in the unsuccessful attempt to hide his laughter, Mantarou raised an inquisitive brow and readjusted his glasses. His gaze finally fell to where Daisuke sat surrounded by a sea undergarments. Shaking his head, he took a long sip of his drink and just as Daisuke wondered if he should start feeling uncomfortable, Mantarou shouted, "Who left their bras all over the couch?!"

"They're drying!" Chizuru called back from somewhere down the hall.

"What's wrong with your closet?"

"Lay flat to dry."

"What's wrong with your bed?"

"Shut it, Mantarou."

"We have company!"

"So? They're just bras."

"You women have no shame." Mantarou turned to Daisuke. "Your friend doesn't have any sisters, does he?"

"Nope." Daisuke snickered. He wasn't going to let Takeru live down his bra-phobia. Ever. "Lucky him."

"You're telling me. Coke?" After digging a soda out of the fridge and sloppily tossing it at Daisuke (he had to dive forward to catch it before it exploded on the floor), Mantarou plopped beside him on the couch, bra straps flying around his ears. "I asked my parents for a little brother to play with and I got three sisters instead. I think I'd rather be an only child."

"At least you're the oldest. Jun's always trying to boss me around," Daisuke grumbled, then added, "not that I let her," and puffed out his chest.

Mantarou lowered his glasses, peering over them in disbelief. "You think that stops them? Just be glad you have one sister and not three. Think about this for a second..."

He gave a long dramatic pause.

"It's that time of the month... three times a month."

Daisuke's nose crinkled. "Ugh."

"That means I'm dealing with PMS three out of four weeks. Or even worse: their periods synchronize."

Daisuke's mind conjured three imaginary Miyakos, screaming at him around half devoured chocolate bars, and he visibly shuttered. "Are they all as scary as Miyako?" he whispered, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure she wasn't in hearing distance.

"No, she's definitely the worst. Probably because she's the baby. You should see the stuff she gets away with."

"Oh?" Daisuke perked up, bringing his legs up onto the couch and folding them as he leaned forward, eager to see what dirt her brother was willing to dish out. He was always on the lookout for good ammunition. "She clogs up the shower with her leg hair, doesn't she?"

Mantarou gave him an odd look.

Daisuke gave his shoulders a shrug. "Jun doesn't shave in the winter. I think she has more hair than I do right now."

After giving Daisuke's bare shins a weirdly curious glance, Mantarou shoved his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "I _wish_ Miyako didn't shave. Momoe and Chizuru are always hogging the bathroom, so she shaves her legs in the kitchen sink."

Daisuke took a second to imagine exactly how that was possible. She'd have to crawl onto the counter or maybe she stood – then she'd practically be doing the splits. Was Miyako that flexible? Her imaginary version reappeared in his mind, hiking up her new high school uniform and sticking out her tongue in concentration. She stretched over her leg to rinse shaving cream from her shin and cursed when water trickled backward down her thigh. The hem of her shirt lifted to dry the tiny droplets, showing the lightly tanned skin of her stomach.

"I mean we prepare food in there!" Mantarou shrieked and imaginary Miyako vanished from Daisuke's thoughts.

Giving his head a hard shake, Daisuke forced out a flat, "Gross." He suddenly felt a bit warm and tugged on his collar.

"And no one else seems bothered by this."

Daisuke cleared his throat. "I am," he coughed, finding that the cleanliness of the Inoue's food seemed to be far from his mind.

"Or that she sings N'Sync at the top of her lungs while she vacuums."

Now _that_ he could use. Daisuke started to snicker when Mantarou added, "in nothing but a towel."

The snicker got caught in his throat as imaginary Miyako reappeared, kicking at the vacuum when the towel got sucked up and went _Bye Bye Bye._

"Uh..." Daisuke covered his inability to respond by taking a long sip of his soda.

"And this whole bras on the back of the couch thing is nothing new," Mantarou continued, taking a break from his rant only to take a sip of his cola. "Miyako purposefully does laundry whenever she knows I'm having company. She thinks because she's in high school now, she's old enough for my friends. It's so embarrassing. Last week she hung an entire string of thongs in front of the TV."

Cola shot out of Daisuke's nose and mouth and he started hacking, cursing mentally at the underwear that danced across his vision. He imagined them laughing at him, their lace and strings coming together like tiny mouths, in order to distract himself from the first image that had popped into his head.

After Mantarou slapped his back, Daisuke wiped snot and soda on the neck of his shirt and pretended he was recovering from a serious bout of laughter.

"Seriously, no shame." Mantarou gave a loud sigh. "I don't need to see that, man. My friends should be completely off limits. And she's so obvious – watching her flirt is like listening to a cat in heat. She never shuts up."

"Tell me about it," Daisuke said, thinking back to Jun's relentless pursuit of Yamato. And Miyako had never been very subtle with her affections either. Ken had to almost literally shake her off his leg once – in the nicest way possible, of course.

Then the damn image of violet hair returned, rubbing against some older guy's shoulder like a purring kitten and Daisuke found himself blurting, "Did it work?"

Mantarou shrugged. "If it did, none of them would've told me." He narrowed one eye in Daisuke's direction. "She's my baby sister."

Daisuke took another long gulp of his soda even though his throat had yet to recover from his hacking fit and tried not to look at Mantarou's suspicious gaze. "Uh... maybe I should wait outside. Check on Takeru... make sure his nose ain't bleedin'."

"You guys are heading to Digiworld, right?" Mantarou asked, a devilish grin forming on his face.

"Uh.. yeah."

"Then we've got exactly 10 minutes before she finishes packing."

When Miyako emerged from her bedroom, oversized backpack strung over her shoulders and hair disheveled from her last minute scramble to get ready, Daisuke knew going along with Mantarou had been a very bad idea. The color of her face slipped into at least three different shades: shocked, embarrassed, and pissed the frick off.

Chizuru appeared behind her and burst into laughter.

Mantarou strutted up to his sisters, his entire torso stretching a rainbow of bras to max capacity. Daisuke had managed to get on exactly one: the lacy lavender B cups. They sat awkwardly across his bare chest like two misshapen lumps.

"How do we look?" Mantarou asked.

"What the _hell_ are you doing with my bras?" Miyako shrieked, slapping her brother in the chest and storming up to Daisuke in order to give his goggles an angry tug.

The goggles snapped right onto his eyes, leaving stinging circles around them. "I thought they were hers!" Daisuke squeaked, finger flying at Chizuru who had yet to stop giggling.

Suddenly he understood Takeru's fear. That bra, before just a boob holding instrument that made an awesome makeshift slingshot, was now accompanied with a real live human female who was absolutely _not_ his sister. Daisuke looked down at the cups on his torso and the livid Miyako was replaced with a livid imaginary one, who he could now picture in nothing more than those very lacey purple B's. Somehow it made her screaming ten times more frightening.

"Take it off, you pervert! You're stretching it out!" Miyako reached her thin arms around him to unstrap the bra from his back, pressing her cheek against his hot skin in order to navigate the hook.

Mantarou was rolling on the floor, laughing and squashing the assortment of Miyako's undergarments without a care in the world. With lavender lace in hand, Miyako turned on him like an angry lioness protecting her cubs (or bras). Daisuke grabbed his shirt and ran out of the Inoue apartment quicker than he had ever run from anything else in his life, evil digimon included.

Outside, Takeru had been joined by Iori and their conversation came to a sudden stop as Daisuke exploded out the door, his arms caught in an awkward struggle to pull his shirt back over his head. The goggles on his face were yanked down in the process, revealing red welts around each eye, making him look like some kind of beat up raccoon.

Iori's mouth stretched straight with just the hint of amusement. "Should I even ask?"

Before Takeru could tell him no, Daisuke turned on them, his hands running down eyelids as if he could wipe away the image that had settled like an unwanted house guest into his mind. And with all the fearful worry that he had set off a bomb, he hissed one word:

"Bras."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Um, yeah, so I was too excited to share the second part with you to wait a whole week to post it. Hope you guys have as much fun reading as I did writing it. Love hearing from you all, especially you crazy fellow Daiyako fans and converts. ;)

* * *

 **The Bomb**

* * *

There was something to be said about the digital world's uncanny ability to change their clothes. At one point in the past, Daisuke had wondered if it were possible to pause the strange sensation of being downloaded long enough to see each other naked. Koushiro had rolled his eyes when he asked, so he hadn't bothered worrying about it again.

Until now.

The stupid thought had wormed its way into his head the exact moment he held his D-3 up to the computer. And when he stuttered, "Di-di-digi-," Miyako had elbowed him aside (she was obviously still pissed off about his brief stint of cross-dressing) and opened the portal for them.

She stormed ahead of the pack once everyone had managed to untangle themselves from each other and Daisuke found that the fresh air of Digiworld wasn't nearly as welcome as the hideous pilot pants that made up Miyako's digital wardrobe. From this angle, with her heavy helmet and gloves, she could still pass for a twelve year old – one that certainly wasn't past wearing training bras. Someone who certainly wouldn't be wearing nothing on her torso but lavender and lace.

Their digimon came parading over a grassy hill and Miyako bent over to scoop Hawkmon into her arms.

Wait, were her pants always that tight?

Were his?

...

...

"You're being weird."

Her stupid helmet was peeking over a rock and her new trendy glasses looked completely out of place smashed beneath it.

Daisuke sunk further into the river and squeaked when icy water met with the skin of his back.

"I mean, you're always weird, but you're definitely being weird _er_ ," Miyako continued, heaving herself onto the rock between them. Daisuke turned his back on her and rubbed a damp hand on his cheek, trying to cool it.

"What the heck are you doing in there?"

"Fishing," Daisuke said when a school of minnows started nibbling on his shin. "Go away."

Veemon dived in the water beside him and came up sputtering and fish-less. "Yikes! The water's freezing."

"Exactly," muttered Daisuke.

"With what?" Miyako asked, not having heard. "Your hands?"

"Yep, I'm that awesome." Daisuke could _feel_ her rolling her eyes. "Bye!"

"You guys are supposed to be helping us serve lunch at the Yokomon village. Hikari wants to know what's taking so long."

"Catchin' fish."

"Daisuke, get your ass out of the water."

He took another much needed step and tried not to cringe when the water soaked further up his shirt. "No."

Veemon scrambled to the shore, shivering. "Maybe we should get a pole..."

"I'm good." Daisuke made a show of grabbing at the tiny fish around his feet and when a larger one swam by he snapped his hand into the water, throwing himself off balance. Icy water went through his ear canals directly into his brain, causing an instant headache. He came up sputtering in time to hear Hawkmon's dismay.

"My dear, has he lost his mind?"

And where Daisuke expected a snappy insult, Miyako remained silent. He didn't dare turn around in fear that the imaginary version of her would make its reappearance. And because he thought of _not_ thinking about it, _all_ he could think about was lavender lace and all the the things it held in place. Daisuke wiped frigid water from his eyes and made another dive after the fish.

The water in his ears warbled her shouting his name. He held his breath and actually managed to grab the fish by the tail. With a whoop of victory he emerged from the water and juggled the slippery thing until it slapped him with a fin and found its way back into the river.

"Are you insane?!"

Daisuke wiped his nose with his arm, leaving a slimy trail and tried to ignore the chattering of his teeth. "Al-Almost had it!"

"Get out of the water right now! You're going to freeze to death!"

"Y-yo-yokomon l-love fish," Daisuke said, taking another step out.

"We brought them _sushi_!" Miyako screamed. "Veemon, do something!"

"Uh... there's plenty of fish in the sea? Maybe we should try there. OW!"

"I meant go get him!"

"But it's cold!" Veemon protested.

"I-I'm g-g-g-goo-fine! I'm f-fine!" Daisuke jerked his arms into the water again and came up short. "D-damn it!"

"This cannot be happening," Miyako groaned. "I swear to God if I have to come in there to get you I'm going to hurt you a lot worse than a cold!"

"D-don't! Don't c-come in here!" Daisuke waded after another fish and felt an odd sense of relief that all he could think about was how incredibly freezing he was. "I-I'll b-b-be out in a min-minute."

"He's gonna be awhile," said Veemon. "That's what he always says when he's in the bathroom."

"Sh-shut up, Vee!"

"He's never just a minute."

"Aughhh!"

In Daisuke's final attempt to catch a fish he really had no interest in catching he found that the river bottom had given way beneath him and he was suddenly over his head, swimming in water that he was sure should have been iced over. It stabbed into his lungs like thousands of tiny icicles and his leg immediately cramped when he tried to kick to the surface. He came up just to spit water from his mouth and hear Miyako screaming belligerently, "Get out—!" before he went under again.

His arms locked and panic took over so fiercely that he forgot how to swim. He bobbed up and down, desperate to feel ground beneath his feet. Floundering, he managed to come back up for another breath, this time hearing a garbled, "stupid!" and "swim!" before he sunk.

Daisuke crazily kicked the only leg that wasn't being shot with electric waves of pain and by sheer luck got into shallow water. He pushed off the river floor with his good foot and coughed up a mouthful of water as soon as he broke free of it's grasp. Shamefully he began to trudge along in the muck, only becoming aware of the panicked splashing ahead after he shot a stream of snot out one nostril. He was sure some were still hanging from his nose when he looked up to see Miyako waist deep in the water coming toward him.

"Are you crazy!?" she shrieked, her lips already turning blue. "It's like an ice-cube in here!"

Still coughing, Daisuke swatted at the string of mucus hanging from his face. He tried to find some excuse to defend himself, but his teeth were chattering so violently he couldn't speak.

"What is wrong with you?!"

"F-f-pfff," he sputtered when she grabbed his shirt collar and started to drag him out of the river with super-human strength (something Daisuke had come to call Miyako-fury over the years).

"Veemon!" she snapped.

Daisuke looked up to find his partner sitting casually on the rock with Hawkmon, completely unconcerned.

"You guys really shouldn't be in there," Veemon said, "It's freezing."

"Ugh!" Miyako gave Daisuke a ridiculously strong tug and then her hands were on his back, shoving him onto the shore. After wiping away another trail of snot, Daisuke let himself fall face-down in the mud. From the corner of his eye he watched as Miyako ripped off her helmet and used it as a pail, flinging cold water onto their partners with a frustrated scream.

Then the Miyako-fury turned on him. "You could've killed yourself!"

Her blue lips chattered as she screamed and wrung out the bottom of her vest, which had blown up like a balloon from all the water it was holding. She slid down the its zipper and the shirt beneath clung so tightly to her skin that Daisuke was very very grateful he felt like a popsicle. He turned away and got a mouthful of dirt. Spitting and feeling sorry for himself, he curled his body into a shivering ball.

"Get out of the mud," Miyako spat. "You're going to get hypothermia."

Something about being wet and cold and having his entire vision of Miyako distorted by her stupid brother and her stupid bras made Daisuke revert into the equivalent of a tantruming two-year-old. He shook his head in protest and managed to get out a, "N-n-NO!"

Miyako tugged at his arm, but he yanked it back. There was a brief respite and then what air he had managed to get back in his lungs was knocked out by her fists. She hammered his back and started spitting out frustrated curses. He stubbornly took his beating until a sharp blow to the kidney finally made him snap.

Daisuke flipped onto his back and grabbed her wrists. "STOP HITTING ME!"

The anger on her face quickly slipped into something he didn't expect.

"Oh, thank God!" she gasped.

Daisuke jerked his hands backwards, releasing her and she immediately wrapped her arms around him.

"I thought you were in shock," she cried. "Don't scare me like that!"

Daisuke froze, more than being frozen, and it was only then that he realized how hard he was shaking.

"Veemon, grab me his jacket!" Miyako shouted upon releasing him. "Seriously, Daisuke, why in the world were you swimming? It's December! The Yokomon don't need any freaking fish!"

All during her lecture she was wiping away the mud from his face with the vest she had peeled from her torso and Daisuke was pretty sure his lips had gone numb. He shook his head and knew he was never ever going to give her an answer to that question, even when he thawed.

Veemon scurried up with Daisuke's bomber jacket and Miyako swiped it from him with a look that would probably kill a weaker 'mon.

"Take off your shirt."

Daisuke blinked at her. "Wha?"

"You aren't going to warm up with that wet thing on. Take it off."

He just stared.

"Do you need me to take it off for you?"

"N-no." Daisuke thanked God for the cold water that must have frozen the blood in his cheeks. He shifted so his back was toward her before peeling off his wet t-shirt. The cold air on his skin sent him into another round of shivering and he actually forgot his embarrassment when he felt the warmth of his coat settle over his back.

After a minute of shaking he managed to thread his arms into the sleeves.

"W-what ab-b-bout you?" he asked, still not daring to face her.

"I didn't get further than my stomach," she said before letting out an involuntary _brrrr_. "I'll just change when we get to the village."

Daisuke nodded, relieved, and ran a hand through his wet hair, suddenly feeling really stupid. The others were going to have a field day with the fish story, but what other reason did he have? He sure as hell wasn't going tell them he decided to take a dip in a frigid river because he didn't know where to find a cold shower.

After sniffing up some more snot, Daisuke ran his hands into his hair again, shaking away as much water as he could. He felt weirdly naked and zipped up his coat before realizing it had nothing to do with the lack of a shirt.

He shot to his feet. "My goggles!"

Miyako stood beside him, casting him a wary eye before searching the ground. Daisuke was frantically searching the water when he heard her ask, "Do you think they sunk?"

"N-no," he blubbered. "T-T-Taichi's gonna k-kill me."

"Wait, I see them!" Veemon said, bouncing on top of a boulder.

Daisuke followed the point of his partner's claw downstream and caught the glint of goggles floating along the current. He dove and grasped Hawkmon by the talon, chucking him into the sky. "Go get them!"

Hawkmon flipped mid-air and whipped around, his feather's ruffled so much that he looked three times his size. "I do say! A kind please would have gone over much more-"

"Aghhh, you're losing them!" Daisuke grasped his hair in frustration. "Fly you birdbrain!"

"Don't talk to Hawkmon like that!" Miyako said.

"B-b-but," Daisuke shuddered as the gentle current transformed into a rapid and the goggles got sucked under some foam. "GAH!" He grabbed his D-3 from his coat pocket. "Veemon, digivolve!"

There was a spark of blue that quickly fizzled out like an old firework. Veemon's stomach rumbled. "Can't," he said. "No lunch."

It was only after Daisuke started to run that he realized how badly the cold had affected him. His muscles ached and the skin on his thighs was raw and stinging from the ice water soaking his shorts. Not to mention a nose full of snot made breathing ten times more difficult than it should have been. He started cursing Miyako out loud, his voice shaking and hoarse, when he felt a gust of wind. He skid to a stop and Miyako glared down at him from atop Halsemon's back.

"Get on," she growled.

Daisuke tried to catch sight of the goggles and suddenly noticed the sound of rushing water had gotten louder. He begrudgingly grabbed Miyako's outstretched hand and took a seat behind her, his cheek squashing into her back when Veemon squeezed onto the end.

Halsemon took off and Daisuke shuddered, mentally cursing away the stupid images that were making a reappearance in his mind. "Goggles, goggles, goggles, goggles," he chanted before allowing himself to open his eyes to search for them.

From above the trees he could see that the river ended at a cliff and just at the peak of the waterfall were his goggles, bouncing in the rapids. "Shit! There, dive, dive!"

Halsemon gave an irritable huff and dove so quickly that the wind stung Daisuke's freezing cheeks. They were just feet away when the goggles were sucked under and Halsemon pulled up to avoid crashing into a stone.

Daisuke was clinging to Miyako for dear life and it took him almost a whole minute to realize what had happened. "Oh no. N-n-nooo no no no no no."

"Halsemon, let us down in the ravine, would you?" Miyako asked.

"No no no no no no no..." Daisuke slid off Halsemon's back and fell with a thump on the ground. "Th-they're d-d-destroyed, r-ruined, g-gone forever."

"Okay, that is it!" The shrill rage in Miyako's voice brought his mourning to a halt. "What is going on with you?"

"I, I l-lost Tai's g-goggles," Daisuke sniffed, snot flowing as freely as the waterfall behind them.

Miyako stood over him, her glasses fogged with pure heated anger. "I'm going to ask you one more time." She bent down and crossed her arms under her chest. For the first time since Daisuke's dip in the river, he went hot.

"What. Is. Going. On. With. You?"

"YOU!" he blurted, scrambling away from her and her angry bosom. "You and your stupid bras and your thongs and your old guys!"

"What?" Miyako looked taken aback and then even the blue of her lips turned red. "What?!"

"N-nothing." Daisuke dug out a yellow glove from his pocket and used it to wipe the snot from his face.

"Is this about you wearing my bra?" Miyako asked. She paused for a moment and Daisuke could see her retracing his words. Steam seemed to explode from her ears. "What the hell did Mantarou say to you?"

"Nothing!" Daisuke repeated, looking everywhere but at her. The waterfall behind them was so loud he could only feel his heart beating even though he was sure he should have heard it.

"Old guys?!"

"Goggles, goggles, goggles, goggles," Daisuke chanted again. And, at just the right moment, in the gurgling pool, he spotted them. "Yes!"

Popping to his feet, he tuned out whatever Miyako was yelling at him, determined to end her inquisition before it wound up in a very bad place.

Veemon was at his heels, raising a skeptical brow as they ran. "You are being weird _er_."

Daisuke clamped a hand over his partner's mouth and pointed at a stagnant pool of water gathered inside a group of rocks. Just beyond, mysteriously still afloat and in one piece, were Taichi's goggles.

After a quick search, Daisuke was reaching for them with the longest stick he could find and would have fallen head-first into the green-tinged water if Veemon hadn't grabbed his ankles.

"I'm going to actually, physically, with my bare hands, _murder_ you if you end up in that water again," Miyako said, coming up behind them.

"Then help me," he grumbled, not taking his eyes off the goggles.

Miyako shoved Veemon aside and before Daisuke knew what was happening she was _sitting_ on his legs. He turned around to stare at her, his shivering body heating to an almost unbearable temperature. Then, with near psychotic desperation, he began to stab the stick at the goggles repeatedly while yelling, "Get off, get off, get off, GET OFF!"

"I'm not going to move until you explain yourself." She ground her behind against the back of his thighs and Daisuke began to flail and kick until she squeezed his legs between her knees. "If you knock us into that water, I'm drowning you."

"Hawkmon!" Daisuke squeaked. "Get the goggles! Please, for the love of Digiworld, get them now!"

"Don't move a feather!" barked Miyako.

Daisuke made another ferocious stab at his heirloom and they floated further from his reach. "Veemon!"

Veemon gulped. "You're on your own, buddy. Sorry."

Daisuke seriously contemplated throwing her in. It would be easy, just a quick twist of his hips.

She wiggled on top of him and dug a sharp elbow in his back. "Talk! Now!"

He ground his face into the rock and, with a pathetic whimper, said, "You want to go out with older guys?"

She stiffened on top of him. "What?"

"Do you really leave your underwear hangin' in front of the TV?"

Miyako remained silent and it scared Daisuke so much that he kept talking, words spilling out his mouth like nervous vomit.

"How many bras do you need anyway? You don't vacuum in a towel when Mantarou's friends are over, do you? God, please don't ever shave in front of me."

In a strangely calm voice, Miyako said, "I'm going to kill him."

An odd little chuckle shook through her and Daisuke completely threw out the idea of turning over. Then her whole body convulsed in laughter. He was beginning to worry it would never stop when Miyako suddenly scrambled to her feet.

"Oh my god!" she squealed.

Daisuke pressed himself flat against the rock and began to stab at the goggles again, even though they were floating away.

"Oh. My. God," she repeated. "You're jealous."

Daisuke shook his head furiously. "No, no I'm not."

"You are! You're jealous and you... oh... ew! No you didn't!"

Daisuke held his breath.

"You were so _not_ fishing!"

"Yes I was!"

"Daisuke!" And then she laughed again, so hard that all the heat Daisuke felt melted into plain embarrassment.

"I cannot believe you!" Miyako guffawed. "You never had to jump into a river for Hikari!"

"I liked Hikari when we were eleven!" he cried. "I didn't—She didn't even have boobs!"

"I've had boobs for like, four years, Daisuke."

"I know! I mean, I didn't... I didn't notice before," he finished lamely. Then, when she stayed quiet he hammered his forehead on the rock and let his stick fall into the water.

There was a second splash and Daisuke lifted his head to see Hawkmon fly overhead, slime covered goggles clutched firmly in his talons. Miyako grabbed them with two careful fingers.

"Get up and take these, please."

Daisuke groaned and considered knocking his head against a rock again before finally conceding. He dragged himself over to her, his entire face red with shame and held out his hands without looking, waiting for her to drop the goggles into them.

But she didn't.

He looked up and his cheek scraped against the tip of her chilly nose. Then her lips, too warm for the frigid air, were pressed against his own. He went still as a statue and for a brief second could only think about how he should probably close his eyes, but he just couldn't stop staring. Hers fluttered open under her glasses and she pulled away.

"Whaa..." Daisuke swallowed and felt the tips of his fingers begin to thaw, burning and red.

Miyako was still holding his goggles and standing uncomfortably close, wiping at the dirty lenses as if nothing had happened.

"Why, why'd you...?" Daisuke stammered. "Did you just kiss me?"

"Yes, I did." She smiled as she met his eyes and he could see blood rush to her cheeks. "And because..." She handed him his goggles and they sat limply in his palm. "I just noticed you're a guy."

Daisuke's mouth opened and closed and then his lips were on hers again and they were kissing, really kissing, kissing _each other._ He must have dropped the goggles because his hands were in her hair and hers were sliding down his back and they were kissing way more than he imagined Miyako knew how to kiss, way more than _he_ knew how to.

The bomb had gone off, his entire body an explosion. Suddenly he was pulling away, beet red, and started to scramble for the water.

He got yanked back, the fur of his bomber jacket wrinkled in Miyako's grip.

She said, "don't you dare," before kissing him again and promising into his mouth that she wouldn't look down.

...

...

In a small hut in Yokomon Village, Daisuke and Miyako found themselves huddled under piles of blankets and cupping huge bowls of vegetable broth in their laps.

"I can't believe you guys fell in the river," said Hikari, her warm eyes sympathetic.

"You can't? Really?" asked Takeru.

They both glared at him, shivering and sucking snot into their noses. Veemon gave a loud snort and Hawkmon placed a wing over his mouth apologetically.

"I'm not even going to ask," said Iori, grabbing two cups of tea from Armadillomon's shell and placing them in their hands.

Daisuke sneezed and Ken handed him a handkerchief into which he promptly blew his nose.

"You guys should probably go home and get some rest," Ken said. "We can take care of things here."

"Tomorrow," Miyako mumbled nasally. "I'm not walking back without my clothes."

Daisuke went red.

"They'll be dry in the morning," said Hikari. "Just try to get warm."

When everyone left, they both took long awkward sips of tea and Daisuke slurped loudly on his broth before sneezing half of it all over the hut.

Miyako's lip curled upward and then she broke down in a series of sneezes so violent and gross that she had to wave at Daisuke to pass the handkerchief.

"We're disgusting," she mumbled when her face was free of boogers.

Daisuke gave a loud sniff and sunk under his blankets even though his face was hot to the touch.

"Sick," he muttered.

Miyako tossed the handkerchief aside. "Still wanna make out?"

All Daisuke could do was nod.


End file.
